Where
by Corilyne
Summary: A trip to the Lone Islands leaves Narnia with two missing rulers, a very angry Edmund, and a captured Archen prince.
1. Prologue

**_Where  
_Prologue  
****Rated: T  
Author: Corianne**

**I don't own anything at all!**

----------------------------

_Crash!_

Kaelin sighed and closed her eyes, hoping that wasn't a plate or one of Willem's creations.

"It's alright, we can fix it! I think…" Naithen called, and then ran off to find one of his brothers to help him do so.

As soon as she was sure that he was gone, Kaelin ran into the room to see the damage. It was a teacup, one of the five that Grandma had left them when she died. If the family ever lost the sheep, she had said to Arlen, Kaelin's father, they could sell these for money.

With each cup that her brother broke, she had visions of all those coins being dropped into the well, one by one.

Thankfully, there were no worries of the sheep being taken away yet. Her father and brothers did a fine job of collecting wool, slaughtering when necessary, and giving the useful parts to her to be made into candle wax, rugs, soap, clothing, and other things.

Still, as she picked up the shards of porcelain, she wondered what would happen if they were forced to leave. No harm in being prepared, as the saying went. (Or something along those lines; her family had a way of mixing up one phrase with another.) If the farm was taken away, there was always Mrs. Adair's home, but that was barely bigger than the one that her father owned now; eleven people would hardly be able to fit.

"You broke _another one_?!" Willem asked Naithen as he pushed the wooden door open.

"Yes, but it can be fixed!" he said quickly, "There were only-"

"It doesn't matter if it can be fixed," her older brother cut in, looking at the damage, "Even if it _could_ be repaired, _at least_ a quarter of its value is lost."

Seeing his little brother's look of remorse, he ruffled his hair and added, "But I'll see what I can do."

Naithen perked up a bit and went back to his room.

"He's a bit active for a feverish boy," Kaelin remarked to Willem as she watched him attempt to salvage the pieces.

"I know. I don't think he's really ill, but he worked hard yesterday and pulled muscles in his arms. He couldn't have done much today anyway," he said, fitting two pieces together, "Heat up the wax, please?"

She retrieved the small bottle from its place on the mantle and held it over the fire, "What was he doing that he pulled muscles?"

"He helped Biron cut down that oak in the middle of the field."

"Isn't that dangerous for a twelve year old?" she asked, bringing the melted wax to her brother.

"Yes, but it had to be done. Father needed the rest of us to help with the sheep," he explained, squinting at the piece in his hand and trying to run a straight line of wax along the edge.

"All of you?" she asked skeptically.

"Evrin wrote down their health and Calvert and I did the rest."

"What's the rest?"

He sighed and looked up at her, "Kaelin, do you really want me to put this back together?"

She nodded.

"Then please be quiet. I need my concentration."

She pulled out a wooden chair and sat, watching him work. Most people would find this sort of thing boring, but Kaelin enjoyed it. It gave her more things to think about. She liked comparing things and finding common traits between them.

_The flower painted on the side looks just like the one I saw when I visited Fabia yesterday…the gold around the top looks like…like that portrait of Aslan in Sir Lander's mansion…_

"What do you think? Does it look alright?" Willem asked, holding up the teacup.

"It's perfect! Will, how'd you do it?" she cried, examining it from all sides.

"Wax," he said, blushing, and not answering her question, a fact that went un-noticed.

"You fixed it?!" Naithen asked, poking his head around the corner.

"Yes; go back to sleep."

"But I feel better now!" he whined.

"I'll get Papa," Kaelin warned.

His feet pounded on the wood floor in an effort to get back to the room that he shared with Willem and Calvert. Once he was under the blanket, he called back, "That wasn't fair, Kaelie!"

---

"We hope you've enjoyed staying here and are pleased with the Isles?" the governor, Jarrus, asked the two royals as they walked to their ship.

"Oh, yes!" Queen Lucy answered, "We've had a wonderful time!"

"Yes," the high king confirmed, "You can expect those repairs within the year."

"You are too kind, sir," Jarrus's wife said, curtseying.

"Well, we thank you for your hospitality, but we really must be going. The residents of Doorn will be waiting for us," he said apologetically.

"Are you positive that you can't stay for one more day?" Jarrod, Jarrus's nine year old son, asked sadly.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry," Lucy said, giving him a quick hug, "But we'll return on our way back to Narnia!"

The boy brightened considerably and Peter and Lucy boarded their ship.

"Good bye!" Lucy called, waving, as the ship began to move out of the port of Brenn, "Write to me, Jarrod!"

"I will!" he called back, also waving, jumping up and down enthusiastically. A queen of Narnia wanted him to write to her! Many of her suitors probably didn't receive as warm a farewell as _he_ had!

The crowds that had gathered to see them off slowly trickled away to go back to their business.

Lucy turned to Peter, "Do you think that the Lone Islands are still loyal to us? What if there's been an uprising? We haven't been there in ages!"

"I hope they are," he said, watching the sea ahead of them, "We'll just have to trust Aslan that it will all turn out well."

__________________________________

**What do you think? **

**This will not be a Mary Sue story, so please tell me if Kaelin starts to become one!**

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**_-Corianne-_**


	2. Storms and Statues

**Chapter 1**

_Five days later_

"Peter, do those clouds look dark to you?" Lucy asked, gazing towards the northwest.

He squinted, looking in the direction that her finger pointed.

"You know, Lu, I think they do. Maybe we should find the captain."

She jumped up, dropping her book, and ran to the helm. He watched as she gestured and pointed, just as she had for him. The captain nodded and pointed down. Lucy shook her head, and they continued talking; negotiating, it seemed to Peter.

Finally, Lucy seemed to relent and ran lightly down the stairs and back to her brother. She stopped beside him, panting slightly.

"The captain wants us both to go below deck. I told him that we wanted to help, but he said to ask you."

Peter got up, grabbing Lucy's book for her. He headed towards the captain. The captain waited.

Peter took his time mounting the steps; the captain could have initiated the conversation from where he was if he had wanted to.

"We're helping," were the only words that the poor man was given.

"But, your Majesty, at least hear me out. Your people need you back safely, and it is my job to return you that way. If you're injured in any way while on my ship, it will be my fault! I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you or your royal sister," he pleaded.

"I understand, Captain -" Peter began.

"Kerrel. My name is Kerrel," he interrupted nervously.

"As you wish. Now, Kerrel, as I said, I understand; truly, I do. It's almost the same with me, though. If I do _not_ help and the ship is lost, I will feel guilty for the rest of my days, because I could have prevented it. You see?"

Lucy thought that he might have exaggerated some. If the ship was lost, then he would die also.

Kerrel bit his lip. He really was quite young, as captains go, probably only twenty-five years of age. The wind picked up a bit, blowing his brown hair in different directions.

Lucy impatiently brushed a lock of her own hair out of her eyes.

"So . . . stalemate?" she asked.

"Well, this _is_ my ship. I could _order_ you to go below deck," Kerrel said, one corner of his lip twitching into a smile as though he knew what Peter would say.

"Yes," Peter said wryly, "but _I'm_ the king here. I _could_ order _you_ to let me help."

"Stalemate," Lucy confirmed.

Kerrel looked towards the fast-approaching clouds, "What about this. You go below deck. If we need any assistance, we will call you as quickly as possible."

Peter hesitated.

"We have a very able-bodied crew, your Majesty," the captain added.

"Alright," Peter said, "but even if it's the smallest of jobs, come get me."

"And me!" Lucy chimed in.

"No!" both the king and captain said.

She huffed and put her hands on her hips, "Peter, I feel just the same way as you. Please, let me help?"

"No, Lucy, and that's final. You have your cordial, though, don't you? If any of the crew is hurt, Kerrel will send them down to you, alright?"

She nodded.

The wind picked up some more, and the first drops of rain hit the deck.

"Get below, your Majesties! The storm's upon us!"

...

Kaelin shook her head, feeling the strangeness of her much-thicker hair. Her head was much lighter now that her longer hair was gone.

She looked in the mirror, holding back a sigh at Biron's cutting job. He'd always liked her long hair, and it was obvious that he was very reluctant to cut it. She'd have to get Willem to even it out and cut it shorter. Long hair was foolish when one's friend had lice.

Fabia had taken the loss of her own hair surprisingly well. She had only cried for an hour or so, but she understood that it had to be done. She had, however, gathered up her shorn locks and tied them together with a red ribbon. Kaelin was forced to admit that it looked rather pretty, even if the hair _wasn't_ actually on her friend's head.

She herself didn't understand the big deal about it. It was only hair; it would grow back. If it had been a finger or something irreplaceable, she would have understood. As it was, the whole thing had been done with very little pain to herself, except when Naithen had decided to help. That had hurt.

By the time she had finally sought out Willem, he had already started working on another of his "projects."

At her confused look, he told her that he was making a statue.

"It really doesn't need to be useful, you know. I just figured that our house is bare enough, so we ought to make it look as though we enjoy living in it, not that it's only a necessity."

She didn't understand his logic. She didn't particularly _enjoy_ living in their house; it was a bit too small and old, but it worked. They didn't need anything like Sir Lander's family's mansion. It seemed too much for just four people to live in, not counting the servants. If they had a smaller house, they wouldn't need the servants, she reasoned, and they wouldn't waste money for the servants to get them dressed every morning. They should be able to do that themselves.

"Willem," she asked as she watched him carve out what seemed to be a nose, "why do people need servants?"

"Well," he said, not looking up, "there are plenty of reasons why. They might need help with all the work, or to keep the house clean. It depends."

"In Sir Lander's case."

"Ah. Well, I think it might be a sign of class, having a lot of servants, but he does have a rather large property, don't you think?"

She thought about the huge house and grounds that he had.

"I do think," she said at last, "But if his mansion was smaller, he wouldn't need them all."

"Yes, but imagine that you're him for a moment. If you had all that money and wealth, you'd need help to keep it all clean. And wouldn't you want to show off? Even a little?"

"No."

"Kaelie!" he sighed, "You're not making this easy."

"Sorry," she mumbled, leaning her elbows on the table.

"Keep that expression!" her brother whispered, "It's perfect."

"For what?" she asked as best she could without opening her mouth.

The question went unanswered as Willem worked feverishly, looking up and staring hard at her every now and then. It was slightly uncomfortable.

"There!" he finally proclaimed triumphantly, showing her the face that he had made in the dark wood.

"I wouldn't know. Does it look like me?" she asked.

"Yes, I believe it does!" he grinned wearily.

She scrutinized it carefully before finally announcing, "I don't look too bad."

"Kaelin!" he laughed.

She grinned right back at him.

...

Kerrel was ashamed to admit that he might actually need the high king of Narnia's help. After all his work convincing Peter otherwise, he might need his help anyway.

"Sedar!" he called over the wind to a Calormene sailor, currently trying to tie down a barrel that had come undone.

"Captain?" the man called back.

"Go below and fetch the high king!"

Sedar's eyes widened slightly, but he knew not to question Kerrel's orders.

It had stormed for a whole day.

Peter was pacing the cabin floor. _Twelve steps forward, twelve steps back . . ._

Lucy was watching him and fidgeting. None of the sailors had needed her cordial so far, and she felt useless.

Suddenly, a tall, dark man burst in the door, chest heaving.

"Your Majesty, the . . . the captain needs you-"

He never finished his sentence before Peter was out the hatch and into the driving rain.

Lucy sat back down on the bed, tracing the figure of Aslan on the clear cordial bottle.

_Keep him safe, keep him safe, keep him safe . . ._

She thought about that request, and then revised it.

_Remind him to think . . ._

She could heal injuries, and no matter what, her brother would always manage to get hurt.

_Lucy._

Her eyes jerked open. That voice had sounded _so real_ . . . so much like Peter.

_Peter._

She looked to the roof of the cabin, where she knew that her older brother was on deck.

_Lucy._

It was more insistent. Peter needed help.

She ran up the steps and burst through the hatch and into the storm.

Was this what Peter had felt minutes earlier? She shoved her wet hair out of her eyes and ignored the stinging rain as it hit her skin.

_Where was Peter?_

There he was, tying down a barrel; the same barrel that Sedar had been working on. The wind kept undoing the knots.

"_Peter!" _she called, about to ask if he was alright.

His head whipped up.

"_Lucy?_"

From where she was, she saw it all in a flash of lightning.

A strong gust of wind undid the knot that Peter had been working on and the barrel rolled free, knocking her brother's legs out from underneath him. He slipped on the wet deck and landed on his back. A particularly large wave crashed over the side, bringing him to the other end of the deck and over the side, into the churning water. She saw a dark shape hit the edge, but payed no attention to that.

"_Peter!"_

_..._

**Reviews are appreciated and treasured. They really do help me get chapters out quicker, so thank you!**

**Thanks again for reading!**

_**-Corianne-**_


	3. On the Seashore

**Chapter 2**

"_Peter!"_

Lucy ran to the side of the ship where her brother had disappeared. She couldn't see anything; the water was too dark and choppy. Wait . . . there he was!

His head was just above the water and he seemed unconscious. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she dove in to find him, ignoring Captain Kerrel's frantic plea for her to stay on the ship. Her brother was in the water and unresponsive; it was only logical for her to go in and help him.

The dark water was much colder than she had expected and her fingers went almost numb on impact. Her dress was weighing her down and water kept splashing into her eyes, making them burn. She couldn't hold her head above the water for much longer, and she didn't see Peter anywhere.

Lucy swung her arms around, hoping to hit him blindly and pull him back up to the ship and safety. Even a bruise on his face or a broken nose would be better than drowning.

The orders of the crew were growing slightly fainter, though she could still hear their panicked shouts to each other. The high king and one of Narnia's queens had gone overboard; someone needed to save them.

Thinking that she heard her brother behind her, she spun around and her dress twisted around her legs in such a way that she couldn't move either of them. As she started to sink, a blond head bobbed to the surface. She swam towards it and just barely managed to grab Peter's hand. She tried supporting his head, but his dead weight was becoming too much for her. Lucy was being pulled under.

"Help!" she screamed, but water filled her mouth, making her gag.

She tried again, "Please help me!"

It was obvious that the crew heard, but the storm was blowing them further apart. They were useless to her plight.

_Oh, Aslan, please save us!_

…

Kaelin woke early that morning. She was used to getting up before the sun, but this was earlier than that. She felt resentful, though she wasn't sure why, and her head was aching.

The sea seemed to be an appropriate place to go visit at two o'clock in the morning.

She pulled her dark brown dress over her head, and then put on the lighter colored tunic, tying the belt around her waist. She didn't bother trying to brush her hair out; now that it was thicker, it got tangled more easily. Who was to see her, anyway? It was still dark out.

She felt her way around the crowded house, listening for her father's and brothers' light snores before opening the door.

"Where are you going?" she spun around to see her brother, Calvert, standing behind her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. She vaguely hoped that she hadn't looked this worn out when she first woke up.

"The shore," she told him, hoping that he was still asleep enough to not ask why.

He wasn't.

"Why? It's still dark out," he said as he peered out the window pointedly.

"Calvert, my head hurts. I'm tired, and I'm not feeling very happy or charitable to anyone right now. Please let me be!" she pleaded wearily.

He paused, ". . . Stay there for a moment."

She waited, sliding down the doorpost until she was curled up at the bottom. She wondered where he had gone and contemplated leaving right then, but then decided that he would tell their father if she did. It then occurred to her that he might be telling on her at that moment, but she just buried her head in her arms. She didn't care who he told.

He finally reappeared fully dressed and armed with the small knife that he kept while tending the sheep.

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the door.

"What?" she asked groggily. She was growing tired again.

"I'm going with you; let's go," he said again.

She yawned once more and then led her brother out the door and into the night.

It was a longer walk than she had expected. The shore never seemed to get any closer, no matter how long they walked. She was falling asleep on her feet and was beginning to wonder why she had ever thought that this was a good idea. Her eyes were burning with lack of sleep and they kept sliding shut.

"Are you feeling alright? You're awfully quiet," Calvert asked.

"I could say the same about you," she muttered. He was usually constantly making her laugh, but that was on a normal day. This wasn't normal, nor was it a day, but she didn't realize that.

"Me?" he mused, "Oh, yes, I'm quite fine. I might be quiet on the outside, but it's really because on the _inside_, I'm preparing myself to bombard you with my humor!"

She snorted, "Humor . . . you're just falling asleep!"

"Mhmmm . . . you'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" he joked.

They finally reached the shore. Calvert spread his arms out, making sure to hit her shoulder lightly.

"We're here. What were you planning on doing?"

She looked around at the dim outlines of the waves and the trees.

"Walk," she answered. So they walked.

The air was humid and heavy, as it is before or after a storm. Before long, they were both dripping with sweat. Calvert shifted restlessly and loosened his collar. Kaelin grabbed her hair in one hand, piling it all on the top of her head and switching hands when her arm became cramped. She shivered when a breeze blew across the back of her neck, drying all her sweat and making her cold and uncomfortable.

Slowly, it began to rain. It started as a light drizzle, but quickly turned into a heavy downpour. On a shared thought, they grabbed hands so as to stay together and ran back down the beach. It was slow going because neither of them had brought their boots and they were running through wet sand, which is hard to get through even when dry.

Their progress was brought to an abrupt halt when Kaelin tripped over something large and thoroughly soaked, landing on her stomach. She spit the mud out of her mouth and sat up to examine the object, but stopped short.

"Kaelie?" Calvert asked. He couldn't see what she could.

He didn't see the dagger being held dangerously close to her body and didn't realize the danger. She did.

…

**Thank you to my anonymous reviewer, ****Sarah V****!**

**Please review and make me feel happy? I'd greatly appreciate it!**


	4. Searching and Interrogations

**Chapter 3**

_He couldn't see the dagger being held inches away from her side. She could._

Kaelin froze.

"Kaelie?" Calvert asked. The blade glinted as it jolted towards him, and then back to her. Her brother noticed and began reaching for his own weapon. The dagger flew back to him.

"Sit."

They sat.

"Who are you and what are you doing out here?" it was a male voice.

"I'm Calvert, and this is Kaelin, my sister. We're out here because . . . well, we live here," he finished. Kaelin could practically see him shrugging, despite their current situation.

"Where are we?"

"The seashore . . ." Calvert sounded confused.

"Which _island_?" the man sounded exasperated, and Kaelin worried about what would happen if he ran out of patience.

"Oh. This is Felimath," her brother amended.

"In the Lone Islands?"

"Yes," she put in.

"Is there anywhere that I can find shelter?"

"Tell us about yourself first," Kaelin said, and then squeezed her eyes shut. Had she really just challenged a man with a knife? She had, and would surely be killed now.

"Fair enough. I'm from Narnia. My sister and I were shipwrecked, I believe," he said, much to her surprise.

His voice took on a more desperate tone, "You wouldn't happen to have seen her, would you? I can't find her in the dark, and I worry that she may have . . ."

"Do you know when your ship wrecked?" Calvert asked, seemingly deliberately avoiding the question.

"No, I think I was out for most of it . . ." the dagger lowered some.

"Out?"

"Passed out. Unconscious," he explained.

"Oh. But do you know which day? Yesterday, the day before?" her brother pressed.

"It was . . . some time during this night, I think," the man didn't seem nearly as dangerous anymore.

"So you'd have to have been at least _relatively_ close . . ." Calvert mused, "But I don't know for sure. She _could _have drowned, that's always a possibility, but . . . I don't know. If you can't say _when_ you washed up here, then I really can't help you."

Kaelin was impressed. She'd never thought her brother to be that logical. He wasn't unintelligent, but he'd always been making jokes and had never proved himself . . . smart.

"But . . . she's my sister! Could you help me find her?" he asked with sudden vigor. She wondered about his mental health.

Kaelin didn't know what to say, but her brother did. He _was_ a fellow older sibling, and a brother at that.

"Yes."

She sighed and got to her hands and knees, not knowing exactly what she was supposed to look for, but determined to help. She _was_ a fellow younger sibling, and a sister at that.

The work irritated her. Wet sand got in her skirt and between her fingers, shards of shells dug into her skin, wet hair hung in her eyes, her soaked dress wrapped around her legs, and she couldn't see anything in the dark. At least the rain had ended.

After ten minutes, she was ready to give up. If the girl was here, she would still be here in the morning, she reasoned, and if she wasn't here, then maybe by dawn she would have washed up.

Finally Calvert announced that he had found something in the general shape of a human.

"She's . . . breathing, but I think she's unconscious."

The man ran past her as she stumbled to her feet. Her lack of sleep this night was catching up to her, and she stifled a yawn. Not that anyone would have seen it, she remembered tiredly.

"Lucy!" the stranger cried.

'Lucy' moaned.

"Do you have anywhere for her to recover?" the man asked them desperately.

"Perhaps," Calvert told him evasively, and then turned to his sister.

"Kaelie, would you be too terribly angry if we offered to cellar?"

She considered it. They could all be killed in their sleep, but it would be for a good cause . . .

"We can offer," she answered nervously.

"We have a cellar. It's clean . . . as far as cellars go, so if you want to stay there . . . you can," she told the man tentatively.

He glanced at his sister, limp in his arms, and then back at Kaelin, "Take us there."

...

**Sorry this is so short! I wrote most of this while in the hospital, and there's more of it, but I just can't seem to get that part right, so . . . here you are!**

**Please review!**


	5. Royals in the Cellar

**Chapter 4**

"It's lovely," Lucy said tiredly. Kaelin could tell that she was probably a naturally cheerful and polite person, but was also very exhausted. She leaned against her brother so much that he was practically carrying her and tripped over small rocks. Her brother's name was . . . Kaelin couldn't remember. It started with a 'P', though.

They had had a difficult time finding the cellar in the dark. It had only been luck that when Lucy had stumbled, she had hit her foot on the corner.

Once inside, Calvert had lit the lantern that their father always kept inside the door. Kaelin cringed.

The cellar wasn't awful, but it had fallen into slight disrepair. The wood of the walls leaked water when it rained, and there was old straw and wet leaves on the floor.

The boy looked around, glanced at his sister, and looked back over the small area.

"We can clean it tomorrow," Calvert said.

"At least it's mostly dry," Kaelin offered timidly.

Lucy nodded and curled up on the straw in one of the damp corners.

"We would offer the house, but we have no room and it would draw so much attention. This is a relatively small island, and if word got out that you're here, it would spread very quickly. Judging from the fact that you had a specific destination in mind when you came here, I think that you're rather important, because nobody ever comes to Felimath except to collect taxes, and they come from the other direction," Calvert said.

"Are you important?" Kaelin asked, suddenly curious.

Lucy thought for a moment, "I don't know! I don't remember; do you, Peter?"

"I'm falling asleep and can't think straight, Lu, so could we think about this tomorrow?" Peter asked, his eyes already closing.

There was no answer, as she was sleeping by this time.

...

Kaelin and Calvert were very quiet as they walked back to their house. Although when they had been walking to the shore, they had been silent because of tiredness, now there was a different reason altogether. What if they were important? Perhaps they were related to the Narnian royalty that they had heard of four years ago! What then? It wouldn't be right to let them sleep in the cellar, but where else could they go? Fabia came every day once she was allowed to leave the mansion, and she was always desperate for someone to talk to. She would surely find something out about the visitors that appeared from practically nowhere, and then she would tell the whole town. . .

What were they going to do able Lucy and her brother?

...

Kaelin had managed to get through the day without telling anyone about the cellar's new occupants or drawing suspicion.

There had been a man knocking on the door early in the morning, asking if she had seen a boy and girl, about eighteen and fourteen years old, but she had denied it and sent him on his way. He hadn't looked reputable.

She had almost forgotten about the incident and the visitors as she washed the dishes and mended ripped clothing in the empty house until Fabia arrived.

Kaelin and Fabia, under normal circumstances, would probably have not been friends. Fabia talked too much, while Kaelin kept mostly to herself, but because they were the only girls on the western side of Felimath that weren't knights' daughters, they had gravitated toward each other and now, though each still thought the other a bit strange, they were very good friends, as friends go.

"Oh, Kaelie, I'm so glad you're here! I had the most _terrible_ day today!" Fabia cried as she burst in the door and dramatically threw herself in a chair, causing Kaelin to jump and prick herself with a needle.

"Sir Lander's daughter . . . oh, she just makes me so mad, with her black hair and blue eyes! Why, as I brushed her hair this morning, she made the most hideous comment about how my hair was cut and wasn't as long as hers anymore. I had the hardest time trying to keep a comment to myself and not get hit for it, because she had just told me about a ball that her father was hosting in honor of the governor coming, and I suppose the high king and one of the Narnian queens was to come as well, but something came up and they couldn't make it," her face fell for a moment, but she brightened just as quickly.

"Which of Sir Lander's daughters was this?" Kaelin asked politely.

"Solena," Fabia said in disgust, "But I can almost forget what she said about my hair when I think of that ball! She said that everyone is invited - even _your_ family! – and all the servants have the night off! Of course that means that those poor women on kitchen duty will have so much to clean, but I'm not one of them, so I'll just be up in _that girl's_ room helping her pull on her nightdress while she babbles about all the men that she danced with – do you know that when she was nine years old, Sir Lander actually got marriage offers for her? And he truly considered them, too! Unfortunately, there was never enough –"

Kaelin stopped listening to her friend. She knew that Fabia would eventually run out of words and ask for something to eat, and then where Willem was. She had been infatuated with him for nine years, since she was seven years old.

Fabia was interrupted by Willem himself coming in carrying three small pumpkins. She was silent was almost a full five minutes, watching him give the pumpkin to Kaelin and trying to hear the whispered conversation between the two of them.

When Willem went back out, Fabia asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing!" Kaelin said, looking slightly flustered and disturbed at whatever her brother had told her.

"What did he say?" she pressed.

"Nothing, Fabia!" Kaelin insisted, but it wasn't 'nothing'. Felimath was going into autumn early, and the cellar would be in use soon.

They needed a new hiding place.

...

**Long wait, I know. I'm sorry, but thank you for bearing with me!**

**Thanks for reviewing, everyone!**


	6. Edmund and Other Matters

***blows away dust* Yeah. I haven't updated in a long while, have I? I apologize profusely . . . but really have no explanation other than the fact that I was sort of busy and couldn't bring myself to write anything.**

**Peace offering?**

When Kaelin snuck out to take Lucy and her brother food, she wondered how she would tell them that they would have to be moved. They were clearly nobles or something, for goodness sake; they couldn't be dumped from one place to another . . .

She got to the cellar, and then hesitated. Should she knock? It was her family's cellar, but would it be proper to just walk in on them like that?

After thinking for a moment outside the door, she knocked once, waited for any objection, and, when she didn't hear one, walked in.

The cellar looked even worse than she remembered the night before. It seemed darker, smellier, and dirtier. The imprints of her brothers' boots were in the dirt, and a rotten bit of produce from the previous season decomposed in a corner letting off a smell and attracting flies.

Lucy sat on the dirty straw in one of the corners, looking half-asleep. The boy's head snapped up when Kaelin walked in. Both of their clothes were messier than when she had last seen them – the dirt floor made everything messy.

Someone's stomach growled, and she blushed – she had forgotten to bring them any lunch.

"Peter?" Lucy mumbled, slowly sitting up and bringing a hand to her head.

Her brother quickly went to her, "What is it, Lu?"

"Nothing," she said, opening her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Kaelin watched uncomfortably.

"Oh," Lucy said, noticing Kaelin, "I think I've forgotten your name," she said, smiling regretfully.

"Kaelin . . ." she answered nervously. Where they important? Should she give them titles? But she didn't know what titles that she would be expected to give them! She bit her lip.

"Hello, Kaelin!" she said brightly, "Do you know what time of the day it is?"

"It's almost night time on the twenty-third day of the ninth month," she said, and then wondered if she should have said so much. Was it condescending to assume that she didn't know the day either?

"Thank you!" she said, still smiling, but blinking groggily, "What happened last night?"

"Erm . . ." she stalled awkwardly – she wasn't really sure.

Thankfully, Peter jumped in with what he knew, and she had time to get a good look at the two of them.

Lucy seemed to be about thirteen or fourteen, with dark brownish-red hair that seemed to have once been pulled back, but now hung in medium length curls down her back. Her eyes were bright blue, almost the same color as the sash on her silver dress. She must be royalty of some kind.

Peter looked older than Kaelin – about eighteen or nineteen. His hair was probably a lighter color of blond when it was clean, but it was clear that it wasn't as dark as his sister's hair was. His eyes were the same color of blue as hers. His tunic was a rich blue, with a gold emblem on it that she didn't recognise.

Even if they hadn't looked alike, their obvious concern for each other would have told Kaelin that they were siblings.

There was a pause in Peter's story, and Kaelin quickly cut in, trying not to think of what the consequences could be when she interrupted someone of such high rank.

"There's food here; I'm sorry that it wasn't brought earlier. But, you see, it's getting on towards autumn, and the cellar's going to be in use soon. We need to move you."

"Where?" Peter asked, carefully keeping his face blank.

"I don't know just yet, but it has to be tonight or early tomorrow – my brothers will start moving produce in here," she said, glancing at the rotten tomato in the corner.

He sighed, and she began to feel pity for him. Maybe he was only trying to do his best for his sister.

Inspiration hit.

"There is Naithen's old tree house . . ." she said, more to herself than to anyone else in particular.

"Who's Naithen?" Lucy asked curiously.

"He's my younger brother," she said, and began musing to herself, "No one would look in the woods . . . but it's dirtier than this is!"

"So now you're sending us to the woods?" Peter asked, sounding slightly frustrated and looking worriedly at his sister.

"I don't know where else to put you!" she cried, "A man came today asking if I had seen either of you, so someone _must_ know that you're here!"

"What? . . . What did you tell him?" he looked at her with barely hidden nervousness.

"Nothing," she felt suddenly defensive, as though he didn't trust her. She wanted both of them to trust her.

"Really?" he studied her face, as though trying to figure out his answer there.

"Yes," She struggled under the urge to squirm.

"Alright," he sighed, looking back at his sister, still sitting mostly awake in the straw, "Where were you going to take us?"

...

"They're . . . _what_?" Edmund tried to keep himself calm so as to not scare the messenger. His inner thoughts were to put a sword to the teenager's throat and force the boy to lead him to where Peter and Lucy were last seen.

"They – they're missing, Your Majesty," the boy stuttered, taking a small step back. Edmund barely noticed.

"And where did you say that they were last seen?" he looked at the boy intently, making him fidget.

"Officially, they were last seen sailing away from the Seven Isles, but-"

"Where were they headed?" Edmund interrupted. Susan gave him a look of slight reproach, but it was half-hearted. She was interested as well.

"From what I heard, they were going to the Lone Islands-"

"Which one?"

"I believe that their aim was Doorn, King Edmund," he said, biting his lip in nervousness.

"That's where I'm going," Edmund said, practically jumping out of his throne, with Susan following in protest.

"We'll leave before evening."

...

**As was before mentioned, I'm dreadfully sorry about the long wait, and the lack of detail and importance in Kaelin's part. I can't wait to really get into the plot!**

**All feedback is greatly appreciated!**

_**-Corilyne**_


	7. Party Preparations

**Yeah. Um . . . I do actually have something that slightly resembles an excuse this time: My computer keeps getting viruses when I go to , so it had to be completely taken apart and put back together. And then Microsoft Word disappeared, and I just found out that it was back.**

**So there is my silent plea to not be killed (which I realise that I have just made audible, metaphorically speaking [and I'm sorry if you didn't understand that – I have a way of speaking which usually only makes sense to myself]).**

**And now – a disclaimer: I hereby renounce any claim that I may have secrectly had on the Chronicles, C.S. Lewis, or related titles. (If it were mine, it would have been taken away long before now due to neglect on my part.)**

_One month later…_

As she lay in bed that night, Kaelin reflected on the residents of her brother's wooden treehouse.

The high king – Since she had first seen him, he seemed to have grown more comfortable around Willem, Calvert, and herself (the only members of her family that he had come in contact with). Every so often, he would say something amusing, surprising her but making her laugh all the same. She had discovered that his favorite food that was provided him here – during the harvest time, anyway – was a certain pie, made from her late mother's recipe, and consisting of mostly pumkin, cream, and spices.

He stayed in his royal garments, because her eldest brother's clothes were much too large for him, and the rest of her brothers' were too small. King Peter took this well, however, and she respected him for it – a worse king could easily have made rather rude comments about not being taken care of well enough.

The youngest queen – Queen Lucy stayed mostly the same. Her personality – perpetual cheerfulness and a general positive view of everything – hadn't changed at all. If anything, she had become more prone to laughter and slightly more open with Kaelin, which Kaelin figured was likely because she was the only female the Queen Lucy had contact with, and she was closer to her age than her sister, Queen Susan, was. Her food preference was shared with her brother, and she claimed that the Narnians didn't make it quite as well as Kaelin did, which caused her to blush every time it was announced.

She also stayed in her original attire – Kaelin was slightly taller that she was. Like her brother, she accepted this (and had actually protested when Kaelin had asked her to at least try her clothes, saying that she would hate to take away Kaelin's only "formal" dress), and never made a rude comment about it.

It was lucky that they were both honorable rulers, Kaelin reflected, because her family would have had trouble acting as befit their rank around arrogant monarchs. Her brothers would have a hard time containing their anger, as would she on a smaller level.

She sighed, a bit annoyed at her lack of sleep, and turned to look out her small window. As she stared at the stars, she pulled her blanket more tightly around herself – it was a cold night.

The ball that Fabia had talked of was in two days. As her friend had mentioned, she and her whole family had been invited. The king and queen wouldn't be able to attend – there had been even more people going through town asking after the two of them, none of them very reputable looking except one with an oiled black beard and smooth words, as well as a large curved sword. Kaelin had been careful to stay out of his path.

That made her think about the knives that her father and brothers used on the sheep, which made her fall asleep rather quickly.

...

The two days hadn't gone by fast enough. Kaelin had promised herself that she would wait calmly until her father allowed his six children to get ready, but she had gradually become more and more jittery and anxious, trembling with anticipation the whole time that she was mending Naithen's sock.

When her father had finally given them the wished-for release, she had jumped out of her chair so quickly that it shot out behind her and hit Willem in the knees, prompting teasing from the rest of her brothers. She ignored them and flew to her room, stopping only when she was beside the bed on which she had placed her dress.

It was really beautiful, too well made for a shepherd's daughter. The only reason that she had it was because her father had saved a Terebinthian merchant's son once, and in gratitude, the merchant had given him seven sets of clothes – one for her father and each of his children (her mother had already died) – which were some of the best quality that he had with him.

Kaelin assumed that her brothers were wearing their own Terebinthian attire, except possibly Naithen, who had grown too much for his to fit him anymore.

The Terebinthians know how to make lovely clothes. Her dress was a silvery-grey fabric, with a red sash and matching grey ankle boots.

Almost before she knew it, she had the garment over her head and was buttoning the back. Earlier that morning she had "borrowed" the mirror from its place in her brother Biron's drawer. He never used it anyway, except when he went to visit the neighbor girl that he planned on marrying.

Soon, she was brushing the tangles out of her – extremely thick – hair, and then pulling the soft boots on. They would probably be ruined some in the sand, but she would just have to bear it.

Kaelin had finished readying herself slightly after her brothers, but in the chaos outside her room, no one really noticed her late appearance. Willem had, and he raised an eyebrow at her in a teasing question, but he said nothing.

Finally Naithen stopped complaining about his clothes, and her father looked them all over. After pronouncing them ready, they began the short walk to the mansion on the top of the hill.

**Next chapter should be up much sooner than this, and should be (hopefully) much longer, because that's when the plot really starts! I just wanted a chapter especially for the party, because that really when cool stuff starts. (Not cool for Kaelin, but…..*evil grin*)**

**Again, even more apologies for long waits! But it **_**will not be abandoned**_**! Cross my heart – I **_**promise**_**.**

_**~Corilyne~**_


	8. A Ball and a Ship

The banquet hall in the mansion was enormous. Kaelin dropped her jaw to stare up in amazement at the crystal hanging from the ceiling and the brightly-colored paintings high above her head.

Willem nudged her, and she brought her head back down with a jerk.

The people were just as interesting to look at as the mansion itself was. Each woman's dress was of a bright silk of some sort, adorned with jewels. Each man's attire was much more formal than the clothes that her brothers wore – so pressed and clean that she almost wasn't sure how to describe it to her awed brain.

The knight and owner of the mansion himself stood on a raised area of the room with his four daughters. The girl that Fabia seemed to dislike so much was easy to pick out – she was the only one of Sir Landers's daughters that had black hair. The girl – Solena – looked over the floor with disdain, as though none of the people that had been invited were worthy of stepping foot in her house. When her eyes met Kaelin's, Kaelin gave her a smile, prompting a roll of her blue eyes and a look in the opposite direction. Willem glanced between the two of them in amusement.

"Enemies already?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fabia doesn't like her," Kaelin said, trying to look disinterested as she examined a painting of a blond, curly haired boy with very bright green eyes.

Her brother seemed to be attempting to stifle a laugh at her efforts, and then he wandered off to make sure that Naithen hadn't gotten himself into any trouble. After doing so, he returned with a drink of some kind for Kaelin, and then he disappeared again. Kaelin meandered over to a relatively empty corner and stayed there.

She had been standing in the corner for only a few moments before Fabia bounced up in a bright blue gown and cloud of smell that gave her a minor headache.

"So where's Willem?" she asked right off.

"Around," she told her, unwilling to force her brother to spend the evening with her friend.

"Hm. Well, if you see him, tell him that I'm perfectly willing to dance with him!" she chirped.

Kaelin simply nodded. She had actually just spotted him, and Solena's eyes were following him hungrily as well. She couldn't help a small smile.

"Fabia," she said, pointing toward Willem, "It seems that you have competition."

Her friend understood what she meant all too quickly – darted between Solena and Willem angrily.

"How dare that . . . that girl try to steal him from me!" Fabia shrieked in a whisper, stomping her foot.

Kaelin nearly choked on the liquid that she had been attempting to swallow, and could only watch helplessly as Fabia stomped up to Solena and slapped her.

Kaelin watched as the guards pulled her friend off of Solena, who didn't seem very injured. The girl glanced at Kaelin, and her blue eyes were dark with rage as maids rushed her off to make sure that she was alright.

Kaelin ran as quickly she could without making a scene, and she was at Willem's side in moments.

"We have to help her!" she said, breathless from trying to keep laughter and panic inside.

He nodded and followed her to where Fabia was being escorted out through the huge wooden doors. Willem stopped the guards and pulled them off to the side while Fabia complained to Kaelin about how her life just wasn't fair.

After a minute or so, the guards had been convinced that Fabia wasn't going to be any further harm at all, and they sympathized with Willem for being the object of her affection. Fabia was left in Willem and Kaelin's care, as long as they kept her restrained and away from Solena (or any of Sir Landers's other daughters, just to be safe). The garden seemed to be their only option.

Fabia had calmed considerably now that she was in Willem's presence, and she didn't say a word as she sat – she seemed content to simply stare at him. He purposely looked a different direction.

Light and people's voices spilled out of the open doors. Kaelin glanced wistfully inside and rubbed her arms – it was colder than she had expected out here, though neither Fabia nor Willem seemed to notice.

Kaelin absently began humming the song that was playing inside, and Fabia, apparently tired of the lack of conversation, began a rather one-sided one with Willem.

Kaelin slowly edged away until she was back inside the mansion. It wasn't long before Calvert found her, but by that time she was thoroughly bored of the ball and had him agree to inform their father that she had gone to the shore for a while.

It was colder near the shore due to the wind blowing off the sea, but she was hoping for something interesting to show up – it had before, in the forms of their two visitors.

She could understand why Fabia liked balls so much – they were social events, and there was never a dull moment. Kaelin was getting tired of the endless things to see, however, and wanted a break. She was tired of the complete order in that mansion –although she usually hated anything random, this was just _too_ orderly– and wanted something that changed.

The sea did just that.

By the time she got to the shore, she was freezing, but she carried her soft boots in one hand so that they stayed clean. The wind had picked up, and when she went back to the ball, she'd have to stop by her house first to clean herself up. She knew without looking that her hair was a mess and she probably wouldn't be allowed back in - she didn't look very reputable and she knew it.

Kaelin sat down in the grass near the sand so that she wouldn't ruin her dress. She soon discovered that even that made her clothes damp, so she jumped back up and began walking.

She didn't really think of anything in particular – she just enjoyed being near the water by herself. Lucy was rubbing off on her – the younger girl would have loved this.

Kaelin slowly became aware of the fact that she wasn't very familiar with her current location. She had probably only been to this area once or twice before, and never alone at night. Deciding that this was a good place to go back, she turned and began walking back the way she had come. This wasn't a good place for her to be by herself – there were trees covering her from the sight of anyone who would possibly of help if she was attacked by anything, and it was a place where nobody lived, really, with the exception of possibly one or two fishermen.

She noticed a dark shape floating in the water off the coast. At first she thought that it was simply a fishing boat, but it was too large for that – it could only be a ship. She took a few steps nearer the water for a closer look. There was suddenly a piercing wail, and she jumped involuntarily. She could barely make out figures on the deck moving quickly towards one specific area of the ship. One of the figures stopped and ran to what she assumed to be the railing, and Kaelin had the sensation that he was staring at her.

Almost subconsciously she quickened her pace until she was at a jogging speed. She hadn't gone far, though, before a rough hand grabbed her wrist and she gasped, trying to pull away.

"What did you see?" a man hissed at her.

"What?" she asked, wide-eyed, thoroughly terrified, and still fighting for control of her arm.

Another set of hands grabbed her from behind and shoved a foul-smelling handkerchief in her face. She struggled to get away, but her efforts became weaker and weaker as the poison clouded her mind.

...

"Still no sign of them, Your Majesty," the messenger reported.

"It's been a month, King Edmund," a young centaur reminded him, "Wouldn't it be better to simply leave them in Aslan's power?"

"They are in Aslan's power," he said, pondering any places that could have been overlooked.

"We would never give up," Orieus told the younger centaur sternly, "I would speak to you about this later."

Edmund messaged his temples, trying to ignore them. Susan seemed sure that Peter and Lucy were dead, but he had to keep looking. Even if they had been killed, and all that could be brought back was their bodies, then that's what he would bring back.

He suddenly looked up.

"General, make ready a crew - we're going to meet King Lune. The men that took his son quite probably have Peter and Lucy."

The centaur nodded, and turned to do so.

"We leave before sundown."

...

**Don't you just love writer's block?**

**I promised to have this up within a few weeks, but…..I got stuck. The ball was just rather boring to write.**

**On a different note, I'm going into high school!**

**My never-ending plea for reviews still stands! They are greatly appreciated!**

**Thanks for staying with me!**

_**~Corilyne~ **_


	9. A Baby and a Fight

Kaelin woke up in a damp place where the only light came in through the cracks between the boards. Even though it was a small amount of light, it was enough to make her squint and raise a hand to her aching head.

She could only recall waking up once the night before – she had been in a small boat, wrists tied, and watching one man row towards the ship. The other man must have been watching her, because he suddenly hissed that she was awake. Right after that, he had shoved the cloth into her face again, and she had fallen back asleep.

Looking around her small room with half open eyes, she discovered that it wasn't quite as empty as she had originally believed. A small wooden box lay in the middle of the floor, as though the rocking of the ship had caused it to slide haphazardly around the room and this was where it had stopped.

Raising herself to her hands and knees, Kaelin crawled over to the wooden contraption and peered inside. Two small grey eyes blinked back at her, and she drew back, gasping.

Was that actually a baby?

She slowly looked inside again, and the child blinked once more. His face was red and blotchy, as though he had been crying recently. A small hiccup escaped his mouth, and she gingerly picked him up.

Had the crew of this ship really placed a baby in a wooden box, padded with only a few rags, and left him in a room by himself?

As she rocked the boy, Kaelin pondered how anyone could possibly do something that awful. There had to be a law against it.

She sat there for quite a while, rocking the baby. Her feet, which were curled up beneath her, had long since gone numb, but she didn't dare move for fear of causing the boy to wail and bringing someone to see what the matter was.

Eventually, someone did come. The wooden door slammed open to reveal a rough looking man wearing red cotton trousers and tattered shirt. The shirt could hardly be called white because of the stains down the front, though Kaelin held little hope that the back was much better.

"The cap'n wants to see ya," he said, and as he leered down at her she noticed that he was missing quite a few teeth.

Silently, she struggled to her feet. This was actually quite a feat, because she couldn't use her hands, and her legs from the knees down were completely numb. She staggered a bit and switched the boy quickly to her left arm, grabbing the wall for support with the other.

"Leave the thing," he instructed, and it took a moment for Kaelin to realize that he was actually referring to the baby as a 'thing.'

She shook her head and gripped the child tighter, "I'm not leaving him here alone."

The sailor snarled at her, but then whirled and began walking away.

"Come on!" he yelled.

Sharp spasms of pain shot up her legs, and she bit her lip hard to keep from whimpering as the man marched her down the hallway.

He pushed her up a small flight of stairs, and then she was exposed to the sunlight completely. She brought her right hand up over her eyes and shut them tight, but the man gave her a rough shove and she continued on.

It seemed to take much longer than necessary to arrive at the captain's cabin, but perhaps that was simply her own mind.

The man knocked politely at the door, dusting himself off as he did so.

"Enter," came a voice from within, and the sailor nudged the door open.

Kaelin stood in the doorway for a moment until the man gave a harsh shove inside and she almost lost her balance.

"Calm yourself, man, that's no way to treat a guest and a lady," the captain said mildly.

She blinked in the filtered light of the cabin, her head throbbing once more.

The captain studied her for a few minutes, and she began fidgeting uncomfortably. The baby cooed softly, and though the man's eyes flicked to the bundle, he otherwise ignored it.

"Tell me about yourself, my dear," he said suddenly.

"W-what about myself?" she asked cautiously.

"How did you come to be a queen? Why were you watching my men?" he studied a feather pen with interest, but as he asked the last question, his voice changed slightly and he glanced quickly up at her. She resolved not to answer it….wait, what?

"But…I'm not a queen," she said in confusion.

He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement, "Queen Lucy?"

Her eyes widened in amazement, but he seemed to take it as shock that he knew her.

"Everyone knows you," he scoffed.

"But…" she trailed off.

"Why were you watching my men?" he asked again.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, ignoring his question once more.

"Oh, nothing at all!" he laughed, dropping the pen, "I've already got the boy – _you_ were just an afterthought."

She couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she didn't reply.

He studied her once again.

"How much uproar has the capture caused in your country?" he grinned.

She didn't answer, not knowing quite what he was talking about.

"I asked a question, girl," he said with a trace of impatience.

She shrugged.

"What do you know?" he seemed cautious now.

"Enough," she mumbled, playing along.

"Are they after me already?" he stood quickly.

"Of course!" she said, smirking.

"Ship's approaching, Sir!" someone cried from outside.

He grabbed her shoulders roughly.

"Speak! Tell me what you know!"

She fought to keep a straight face and to keep the baby stable. If a ship was coming…was this good or bad? It seemed to be good, she thought, seeing the panic that it had thrown the captain into.

He let go angrily and hit her.

She gasped, blinking back involuntary tears of pain. He was a big man, and it seemed that he was made of muscle.

"Take her back," he said in disgust, not looking at the sailor behind her as he ran a hand through his hair.

Before she was pulled away, she glimpsed him running to a cabinet and pulling out a key, while drawing his sword with shaking hands. Despite her sudden fear, she couldn't help a small smile of triumph.

…

The sailor seemed very rushed as he pushed her back into the confined space. She heard yells from the deck and the sounds of battle, and the man glanced up at the wood above them, as though wishing to join in as quickly as possible.

He quickly locked the door, and then she heard the sound of his boots on the steps running back up.

She sat nervously in a back corner, holding the crying baby. She wasn't sure what to do or if there was anything she _could_ do, so she just sat.

Someone pounded on the door, but she didn't answer. She thought that, probably, whoever was attacking was on her side, but she couldn't be sure. It might simply be a group of pirates.

After a moment, the door banged open.

The captain hurried in.

"Give me the boy," he demanded.

She shook her head.

"I don't have time for games, girl, now give me the boy!" he shouted.

She shrank back and clutched the baby tighter.

He sighed angrily and whacked her over the head. As she blearily tried to keep herself awake, she vaguely felt the weight of the child disappear. But she couldn't do anything about it as her eyes slipped shut again.

…

It had been a long fight. By now, it was nearly dark. Edmund's ship had joined King Lune and his men in the battle and with both groups fighting together, the battle had ended soon after.

However, neither leader was satisfied once it was over. Lune hadn't found his lost son, though Lord Bar (who had apparently been the captain of the ship) had been killed in the fighting. Edmund hadn't found his siblings—

"King Edmund!" a young Narnian sailor ran up the stairs that lead below deck, "We think we found Queen Lucy!"

He followed the young man back down, taking the steps two at a time, and almost passed the boy quite a few times in his haste to see his sister.

"Is she alright?"

"Well, she was unconscious, your Majesty, and…" he trailed off as they reached the small wooden room.

A girl was being treated for head injuries by a faun, and she looked rather dazed, but…it wasn't Lucy.

Edmund sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

"…Your Majesty?" the sailor asked, confused.

"That isn't Lucy. We'll have to keep looking."

…

**Yeah. Um, continued writer's block…**

**And school started and whatnot…and now that it's almost Christmas, I figured that, perhaps, as a minor present to you all, a chapter would be a good thing to give.**

**And what better time to write a chapter than when one has the flu? Yes, I have indeed been graced with the lovely illness, so if you catch any mistakes that my poor muddled mind missed, please tell me!**

**Um…yeah. So.**

**Ooh! By the way, who saw VotDT? Did y'all like it? Cause I sure did!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Please review and make my winter **_**ever**_** so much better!**

_**~Corilyne~**_


	10. An Empty Room

When the cellar door swung open, Kaelin was not prepared for what she saw. The cellar was full, but King Peter and Queen Lucy were very obviously not here. She was very aware of King Edmund behind her, arms crossed, waiting to see his siblings. She had forgotten – they had been moved to Naithen's tree house.

She turned to face him, "I . . . they've probably been moved to another place . . ."

He sighed, "Find out."

She ducked past him back out into the evening light and spotted her younger brother near the forest. It would be best to find Willem or Calvert – they knew the most about this – but Naithen would suffice.

"Naithen!" she called as quietly as she could. She didn't want to draw much attention.

Her brother yelped and stared as she hurried closer.

"Kaelie?" he asked when they were close enough to speak in normal tones.

"Yes. I need you to find Calvert or Will –"

"Will isn't here," he interrupted. "He disappeared the day after you did."

She scowled to herself. Kind Edmund would not be happy.

"Go find Calvert and bring him here," she told her brother.

Once he was gone, she sat down on one of the stumps to think. How to tell King Edmund that one of the few people who possibly knew his brother and sister's whereabouts was also missing . . .

He came up next to her, "What did you tell him?"

"I told him to go find my brother."

"I thought he _was _your brother," he stared after Naithen with knitted brows.

"I have five brothers," she answered.

"And how many of them might know where Peter and Lucy are?"

"As far as I know, two. But . . . one is missing, apparently . . ." she offered nervously.

He didn't reply, and she wondered if he was angry. She would have completely understood if he _was_, but she really hoped that he wasn't. She didn't know how he acted when angry, and she didn't want to find out when the person that his anger was directed towards was herself, or even her brother. That would . . . not be good.

She shivered, hoping that Calvert would come sometime soon. The sun was going down, and being in the shadows of the forest was just making her colder. Her now-filthy dress did not hold much heat, and she pondered if this was just how fancy dresses such as this were. She glanced over at King Edmund and wondered if he was comfortable in his disguise. All it was, really, was a set of civilian clothes, but it worked. If Kaelin hadn't known better, she would never have suspected him to be a king.

Glancing into the trees, she wondered if it would have been smarter to just go check the tree house herself instead of asking her brother, but then she decided that she had been right. If she hadn't called Naithen when she did, she could have missed him and brought too many people into the situation.

Finally, _finally, _she saw her brother heading in their direction, so she stood back up. It was colder standing up, but she could handle it.

Before she could ask Calvert anything, though, she was crushed in a hug. It was unexpected, but she didn't mind. She felt guilty when she realized that she had hardly missed her family, but she blamed it on the events that had occurred. She hadn't really been gone long enough to be homesick anyway.

"Where have you been?" her brother whispered angrily when he let go.

"On a ship," she mumbled. She didn't want to say something that would make the king next to her suspect her of anything.

He gaped, "On a ship."

She nodded.

"But I need your help. Remember King Peter and Queen Lucy?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Of course you do . . . anyway, we need to find them. Are they still in Naithen's tree house?"

"No, they disappeared when Will did," he scowled.

"May I see this tree house?" King Edmund finally interrupted.

"Who're you?" her brother asked, crossing his arms.

"I'm looking for my siblings. May I see the tree house?" he repeated.

"You're King Edmund," Calvert said flatly.

"Just . . . call me Edmund. It'll make things easier. Now, may – "

"Yes! Yes. I'm sorry, yes," he answered, leading them into the forest with a lantern that Kaelin suddenly noticed.

It was much darker in the woods than it was outside them. The light that they had just left had an orange tinge, but the light here was just brown. The air felt damper in here as well, and her hair quickly began sticking to her forehead. Despite – or possibly because of – the humidity, though, it was still cold – colder in here than it had been in the shadows outside.

Fortunately, Naithen's tree house wasn't very far in past the tree line. When she turned around, she could still clearly see outside, but it didn't make her feel much better. She had never enjoyed going into the forest after dark, and this was no exception.

The lantern soon revealed a large tree and, in its branches, the tree house. Tree _room, _really.

Calvert handed her the lantern and climbed up, and then she passed it back to him. She followed, with Edmund after her.

Just as her brother had said, it was empty. Edmund asked for the lantern, and once it had been handed over, paced around the room, muttering to himself and examining everything. Kaelin stood silently with her brother, watching. How much could he deduce from an empty room?

OoOoOo

Kaelin and her brother had already fallen asleep. Edmund had hardly noticed, so intent was he in his searching. He didn't really know what he was searching for anyway – just a clue of _some_ kind. The floor wasn't scuffed or scratched, so he assumed that there hadn't been a fight. But they could have just as easily been taken in their sleep, so he didn't rule out the idea that they had been captured. There were no strange stains on the floor or walls, so they probably weren't injured. But in that case, poison could have been used as well, and that didn't leave any marks either.

For every idea he had, there seemed to be something to counter it. There was no indication of where they could have gone, and he had checked the ground around the tree for any tracks, which he wasn't expecting to find anyway. Finally, while sitting and thinking, Edmund also fell asleep.

OoOoOo

Kaelin woke up to the sound of excited voices.

One voice, actually, that was just answering itself. She opened her eyes to find Edmund still pacing and gesturing and talking to himself. Calvert was already awake and watching him with a rather confused expression.

Finally he asked, "What are you doing?"

Edmund stopped pacing.

"I had a dream last night – they're in a dungeon in -" he started.

"But . . . that was a _dream. _How do you know it's true?"

"Aslan never lies, even in my mind," he grinned, handing them each three gold coins. "Thank you for all your help!"

And he jumped to the forest floor and ran off.

OoOoOo

**Why is it that I only write during catastrophes? I haven't the slightest idea . . . but yeah. I kinda have an excuse this time, in that I broke my finger and got two surgeries and stuff. It made typing a pain (get it? **_**Pain, **_**because it was broken, and . . . yeah).**

**But anyway . . . I promised to finish this thing, so I will. Even if it takes me years, which hopefully it won't, but you never know. =]**

_**~Corilyne~**_


End file.
